


Going Up

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Coming Out, Confessions, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Phobias, Platonic Cuddling, Secret Crush, Snogging, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: Nicky and Mark get stuck in a lift during the company Christmas party.





	Going Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Westlife Merry Kinkmas fic fest. My randomly generated prompt was Disorders (phobias; neuroses; obsessive-compulsive disorder)

It was just after 9pm, three days before Christmas, when the lift shuddered to a stop and the lights went off.

Mark looked up. Wasn't sure why he did exactly, though in situations like this it seemed the right thing to do, as though he could exchange a look with whatever pulleys and cables were up there and ask what they were playing at, not doing their job.

His attention was brought back down by Nicky clutching his arm with both hands.

The lights came back on.

“What's happening?”

“Lift stopped,” Mark explained uselessly. He disentangled his arm to put it around Nicky's shoulders. “It'll start again in a minute.” Nicky nodded, and when Mark leaned over slightly to press the button for the doors he could hear Nicky breathing, fast and panicked against his side. The digital readout above the panel kept flicking between _7_ and _8_ , as though it wasn't quite sure either.

“It's not starting.” Mark pursed his lips, trying to think. “Mark, it's not starting.”

“I can see that,” he said shortly, and felt Nicky flinch. “Sorry.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to slow down his own heart. Not that he was panicked, exactly, but this was unideal and if there was one person who he didn't need to be in a lift with for more than a few seconds it was Nicky, who usually took the stairs but had been a couple of drinks in and feeling brave when Mark had said he was headed outside to have a smoke.

When he looked down Nicky was staring up at him, eyes wide and lip trembling, cheeks far too pale.

“It's going to be alright,” Mark promised. It was. The lift had stopped, soon it would start again. “I need you to breathe, okay?” Nicky nodded. “Alright. Keep breathing.” Nicky did as he was told, hurried puffs that were probably going to make him pass out if he kept it up, though that probably wasn't a bad thing, necessarily, if it calmed him down.

He pressed the call button. Heard the trill of an alarm somewhere in the walls.

Then silence, rising around them like mud.

He pressed it again.

“There's nobody there,” Nicky whispered. “Mark? There's nobody there. What if they've all gone home and we're stuck in here all weekend. What if we're stuck in here all _Christmas._ What if we die in here on Christmas day and the police have to tell my mam I was in a lift and nobody found me and we starved to death. What if the cable breaks? I always said these things were fucking coffins, and now I'm going to die in one and nobody's ever going to find us and what if I have to eat you to stay alive? I don't know if I can...”

“You're not going to die,” Mark said sternly. Nicky bit his lip, hands coming up to rake feverishly through his hair. “I'm going to try the button again and you're going to get your phone out and call Shane or Kian, because they're still upstairs and they'll tell someone.” They probably would, after they laughed for ten minutes and then drunkenly forgot for a bit that they were supposed to be doing something.

“Okay. Yeah.” Nicky started fishing in his pockets, triumphantly pulled out his mobile, and began to flick through his contacts. “Right.” Mark let go of him to press the call button again, then crouched down to look at the plaque below it, in case they were instructions. Press call button in case of emergency. There wasn't really a step two. “Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“No signal.” When he looked around Nicky was staring at his phone in horror. “Um.” He held it above his head, began to walk around in a slow circle, arm extended so he looked like a confused giraffe out for a stroll. “Um.” Began to walk faster. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Stop.” Mark caught him halfway through lap six, felt Nicky struggle.

“Why? Is the lift going to fall if I move too much? Oh Jesus...” He looked accusingly down at his feet. “Stay still.”

“Well I was going to start jumping up and down, but...” The look on Nicky's face suggested the joke wasn't welcome. “I'll try mine. You're going to press the buttons for the floors and see if we can get this thing moving.” He let go to allow Nicky to cross the space to the console, moving on tip-toes like he thought a light step would make a difference. Mark didn't bother to comment while he pulled his phone out, stomach sinking when he realised there were no bars there either.

“Mark?”

“No signal,” he admitted. When he looked over every button on the console was lit up, from the basement to the penthouse, and Nicky was trying to press them all again. “Try the call thing again.” Nicky stabbed it. The ringing filled the lift, echoing around the small space. It wasn't cramped, but it wasn't exactly spacious either. Maybe three steps long in any direction, enough for Mark to stretch his arms out and not quite touch the sides.

Nicky stabbed the button again. Held his thumb down on it, then all his fingers individually. Let go. The silence sank in again. Mark wondered if it was time to panic yet, but wasn't sure if he could while Nicky was using all the terror for himself.

“I guess we just wait and keep trying our phones,” Mark suggested uselessly. The battery was dropping, though, and the signal wasn't improving. He could faintly hear the party upstairs, the echo of music down the shaft, and wondered if anyone would hear them screaming over the noise.

He sank down in the corner. A few seconds later Nicky gave up and sat down beside him, a trembling mess of skinny limbs.

“Mark? What if nobody comes?”

“Somebody will come.” He tried to make it sound more sure than he felt. “We've got to be on a flight in the morning. They'll notice if we don't show up at the airport.” Wrong thing to say. Nicky stiffened.

“In the _morning_?”

“We'll be out before then.” He put an arm around Nicky again, and was surprised when both arms wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. Mark hugged him numbly back, too surprised to do anything else when Nicky buried his face in his neck. “Alright.” He patted Nicky's shoulder. “We'll be out before you're forced to eat me,” he joked, and heard something that was almost a giggle, but not quite hysterical enough to be a sob.

“Sorry. I wouldn't eat you.”

“I wouldn't be offended.” He looked down at Nicky. “Anyway, if anything I'll be eating you. I had a bigger dinner, and you're just bones. I can last forever.” He patted his stomach. “See? All I have to do is stay calm and wait for you to waste away.” He pinced Nicky's arm in emphasis, felt it flinch away. “Mmm... Nicky.”

“Fuck off,” Nicky mumbled into his shoulder. He looked up, though, peering up through eyes that were filling with panicked tears. “I'd taste better, anyway. You'll taste like an ashtray.”

“Fair point.” Now he really did want a smoke. He fished into his pocket, drew out the packet he'd shoved in there on the way to the lift and began to pull out a cigarette. Nicky slapped it out of his hand. “Hey!”

“You're not fucking smoking in here?”

“Who cares? We're going to die anyway,” Mark shot back. Nicky glared. “Anyway, it calms my nerves. I'm in a stressful situation.”

“I thought you said we were going to be okay?”

“We will. I'm talking about being stuck in here with you.” Nicky was pouting, but Mark supposed at least if they were arguing he was distracted. He picked up the packet again. Nicky snatched it, and before Mark could argue he'd thrown it across the lift to bounce off the other wall. Not a great permanent move, seeing as Mark could still touch it with his foot if he stretched, but Nicky was looking defiant, had pulled out of his shoulder and was glaring at him. “Give them back.”

“No.” Nicky crossed his arms, kicking them away when Mark went to reach. “If you want to die of cancer that's your business.”

“We've all got to die of something,” Mark pointed out. “I mean, you're going to get eaten in a lift, which is quite glamourous.”

“No, you're going to fucking die on oxygen coughing out a lung and I'm going to have to watch it happen and then I'll have to miss you.” He pulled his knees to his chest, and Mark was surprised to see his bottom lip trembling. “I'll bite my tongue if you want to do it outside, but you're not doing it in here.”

“Nicky...” He reached out again, feeling a surprising swell of fondness when he realised his friends cheeks were going red. “You'll miss me?”

“Course I'll fucking miss you,” Nicky mumbled. “Twat.”

“I'm not going to die. At least not any time soon.” He had been thinking of quitting, though. Not in a real way, just in that occasional way, where every time he got a bad cough after a cold he had a vague flash of wondering panic that settled as soon as stopped bothering to think about it. His last checkup had been fine. Still, that moment of having to buy a new pack every couple of weeks was turning into more of an expensive chore than it had ever been.

He wasn't quitting for Nicky, though. He was his own fucking person and he wasn't going to be guilted into it by someone who knocked back vodka six nights a week.

He had bigger things to worry about.

“Mark?”

“Mm?”

“I'm going to try the button again.”

“Okay.” Nicky shuffled away on his bum across the floor. A second later the ringing filled the lift. They waited. Nicky pressed it again. Checked his phone. Scooted back, and Mark smiled when his friend fell back into his embrace. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Nicky closed his eyes. “Sorry I'm cuddling you.”

“It's alright,” Mark chuckled. Nicky smiled shyly and snuggled closer in. “I'm sorry you're scared.” Arms wrapped around his waist again. “Why'd you come down, anyway? I mean, the lift aside, apparently me smoking is a war crime, so...”

“Dunno,” Nicky mumbled. “Just... you know. We didn't get to spend much time together the last couple weeks and I figured we could like... chat. Or whatever.”

“We've seen each other literally every minute for the last two months.” They had. Between album promo and all the Christmas television performances and interviews they'd all been together constantly, on buses and in cars and in meetings and crammed in green rooms. He was ready to go home for Christmas, to spend some time winding down and not being constantly switched on and about to do something tiring.

“Yeah. I guess. Don't worry about it.”

“About what?”

“Nothing,” Nicky huffed. Mark rolled his eyes. There was no point arguing. Nicky was in a mood, and nothing was going to help that apart from time and sulking. It was better than panicking, anyway.

Mark didn't want to admit it out loud, but he was looking forward to spending some time away from Nicky. From his... rather inconvenient feelings.

He was really afraid of how much he was going to miss Nicky.

It wasn't on purpose. Not a bolt of lightning or a moment of realisation or anything stupid like that. It was one of those gradual things. Had crept up on him after spending too long together and appreciating that Nicky was a good person and a good friend and made him laugh and that it was easy to be around Nicky. And that maybe sometimes his arse looked good in jeans and his smile looked so fucking beautiful and honest and open that Mark would have to excuse himself for a minute in case he started hyperventilating at breakfast.

Which was really fucking inconvenient.

“Well, at least we're together,” Mark offered. “I'm just sorry it was me you're stuck with.”

“I'm not.” Nicky edged closer. “If it was Kian he'd start shouting at me.” Mark chuckled. He probably would. Start getting patronising because Nicky was scared and not make things any better despite his best intentions.

“Shane'd be alright, though.”

“Yeah. Shane'd be okay. I mean, he's a fucking div, but at least he's nice to me. No, I'm glad it's you.” His voice went a bit quieter at the end, but then he smirked. “You're the biggest one, so there'll be the most to eat.”

“Calling me fat?”

“No.” Nicky looked up. “You're tall. And you're cuddly. I mean, Shane's my best friend, but you're my favourite.”

“Oh. Right.” He squeezed Nicky's shoulder. “Well... I'm glad. Cheers. What's the difference?”

“Dunno. You just are.” Nicky was blushing again. “Who's your favourite?”

“What, out of you three?” Nicky nodded. “Feels a bit undiplomatic to say.”

“It's only us. I won't tell anyone.”

“What if it's not you, though?”

“Is it not?”

“I'm not sure. I feel different ways about all of you. I mean, Kian and Shane I've known for fucking ages. They're like brothers. Except sort of shitty brothers who draw on my face when I'm asleep and hide my keys.” Nicky snorted. “And like, we haven't known each other for as long, but we've been through a lot together and I trust you. If I needed someone to have my back you'd be the first person I'd call.”

“In a fight?”

“Sure. Or in general.” He found himself smiling, realised Nicky was smiling too, that it had been at least five minutes since one of them had mentioned their predicament. “I'm going to try the button again.” Nicky nodded. “You'll have to let me go.”

“Oh. Right.” Nicky released him. Mark shuffled over. Pressed the button a few times, just to be sure, then checked his phone again. The battery was getting low. He considered switching it off, but didn't want to just in case someone managed to get through. “You want to try shouting for help?”

“Sure.” Nicky pushed himself to his feet. Mark stood as well. “Count of three.”

“After three, or on three?”

“On three.” Nicky looked up. “One. Two.”

“ _Heeeeeeeeeeeeelp...”_ Mark closed his eyes, tried to go as loud as possible, opening his mouth wider to get a higher note to pierce the loud bass from the DJ upstairs. When he opened them he realised Nicky was smirking at him. “What?”

“Did you fucking just do that in perfect pitch?” He was laughing now. “Jesus Christ, there was a key change and everything. Shame we don't have a stool.”

“I was just trying to...” He felt himself blush. Nicky was still laughing. “You try then.”

“Nah, off you go. I'll do harmony.” Mark closed his eyes, scowling, and did it again, heard Nicky giggle then do as he'd promised, belting a note that complimented his own, the two of them shrieking an S.O.S that held until Nicky broke off, laughing again. “Nice one. Should've recorded that.”

Mark was about to reply when the whole lift lurched downwards.

“Fuck...” Nicky was on him in a second, and Mark didn't even have time to rally himself over the sick jolt of horror before he realised Nicky was sobbing, clinging to him. The lift juddered again.

“Maybe it's moving,” Mark said, though his voice sounded thin and scared, tiny in the small, sterile space. “Um.” Nicky was heaving. He looked down, wanting to say something comforting but not sure where to start.

The kiss was a surprise.

It was hard. Desperate. Arms around his shoulders and Nicky smushing their faces together like clay while Mark stood there, eyes wide and sure he was supposed to be responding. Not sure how to when he could taste alcohol and feel the dampness of tears and Nicky's mouth and this wasn't happening and maybe they'd died already. Maybe this was a weird afterlife where nothing made sense and Nicky was kissing him and Jesus Christ they were going to fall to their deaths and his and Nicky's only kiss had been one he hadn't been able to respond to because he'd been too fucking surprised.

Nicky drew back slowly while Mark stood there, brain fizzing on a short circuit.

“Er...” Mark swallowed. “Did um...”

They both jumped when the tannoy below the call button sputtered to life.

“ _Hello? You alright in there? Press the button to respond.”_

“Er...” Mark bent numbly, put his thumb over it. He could hear Nicky breathing fast over his shoulder. “Hi,” he said. “Yeah. The lift stopped about...” He checked his watch. “Twenty minutes ago. We're stuck.”

“ _We're working on it. There was a temporary power outage and it's gone to emergency brake. Is everyone safe?”_

“We're fine.” The voice seemed professional enough, tinny and possibly male, but too hard to tell. “There's two of us. Do you know how long it'll be?”

“ _The generators are on, but the outage shorted communications. The security cameras are down.”_ Mark glanced around in surprise, and realised there was a black plastic bubble in the corner, apparently hiding the camera. He hadn't noticed. Was glad, now that, it was out, or it would have seen something rather recently that he hadn't figured out how to approach himself yet. _“We'll keep you updated. Press the call button if there's an emergency. Otherwise, sit tight, we'll have you out as soon as possible.”_ There was a click, then silence.

“Guess we're saved,” Mark announced weakly. He turned back around. Nicky was sat on the floor again, knees to his chest. “Cheer up. We'll be out soon.”

“Yeah,” Nicky croaked. Mark realised he was still crying. “Good.” He bit his lip. Mark crouched down in front of him, trying to smile. “Can they hear us?”

“No.” He threw a suspicious glance at the speaker. “We can talk in code if you're worried.”

“I thought I was going to die and so I...” Nicky glanced over his shoulder as well. “I tinselled you.”

“Because you thought you were going to die.” It wasn't entirely encouraging. “Do you often tinsel lads when you're about to die?”

“No. Well, I mean it's never come up, exactly.” Nicky took a deep, trembling breath. “I... might have thought about tinselling lads. You know. In... non-life-threatening situations. Once or twice.” He bit his lip. “But if you tell anyone I'll fucking reindeer you into next week.” He breathed out again slowly. “I've never told anyone that.”

“Oh.” Mark sank down. “I get that.” His stomach was knotting. This was weird. This was weird and this was happening and he suspected he should feel excited or scared or something other than an odd, floaty dread, but he was trapped in a fucking lift and for once it felt removed. Like something that was happening outside. And anyway, they might still die, so there wasn't much point worrying about it now.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He licked his lips, tried to pull up all his courage. “I um... I thought about tinselling lads, and erm... occasionally dressing the whole tree, if you know what I mean.” Nicky's eyes widened in surprise.

“Have you done it?”

“No. He slid out of the crouch until he was sat cross-legged on the floor, an easier position with his legs trembling. “I mean, I figured if I tried not to think about it, maybe it'd go away?” Nicky was nodding slowly.

“It didn't, though.”

“No. It didn't.” He reached out a hand. Nicky hesitated, then took it, squeezing. “Hey, upside is even if we die, at least we both got to tinsel a lad, even if I'm a human ashtray.” Nicky grimaced, though there was careful mirth dancing in his eyes. “Maybe it won't feel so weird when I eat you.”

“You don't want to use a code word for that?” Mark raised an eyebrow, not sure what Nicky was talking about, and then realised with a stutter and a blush. Nicky was blushing slightly too.

“Oh. Are we likely to?”

“I was just kidding.”

“Right. Yeah.” His stomach didn't unknot. Nicky's eyes were narrowed, studying him. “Sorry I didn't kiss you back properly. I was surprised.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry I like... took advantage.”

“It's really okay.” They both laughed awkwardly. “Um.” He squeezed Nicky's hand again, then scooted over to sit beside him, back against the wall. “Suppose it'll be weird now if we start cuddling again.”

“Probably,” Nicky mumbled. An arm looped cautiously around Mark's waist, and when Mark didn't rebuff it he felt a head lay on his shoulder. His own arm drifted around Nicky's shoulders again. He found himself smiling. Flushing hot and trying to shift so it didn't become obvious that he was reacting to Nicky's touch, his body a traitor to the confusion in his head. “It was a shite tinsel.”

“It was fine. Considering the circumstances.”

“Dead fish is an understatement.”

“You were the one who tried to eat my face!” Mark protested. “What was I supposed to do? Stick my tongue up your nostril?” Nicky was laughing, both of them shoving indignantly at each other, though not moving away. Not at all. When Mark looked down, offended, Nicky was smiling up at him.

“Try it again?”

“Because of the impending death?”

“No. Forget it.” Nicky looked away, crossing his arms.

Mark pulled him in.

Felt a mouth touch his, stiff, then soften. Part. Saw eyes drift shut and closed his own too, moaning in surprise when a tongue touched carefully to his, both of them reaching out, unsure but gaining confidence when he felt Nicky tilt, felt an arm wrap around his neck and guide him down, the arm on his waist tightening while Mark gulped a breath and pressed in, an embarrassing whimper pouring out of his mouth.

They separated carefully. Mark blinked. Realised he was out of breath, too hot. That Nicky was pink and sparkling and nervous and beautiful, trapped beside him in the corner of a stuck lift.

“Oh. Hey.” He swallowed.

“Good, um... Good tinsel,” Nicky croaked. Mark giggled. “I was really going to miss you this Christmas. That's why I came down in the lift with you.” He took a deep breath while Mark tried to stop himself fizzing into a puddle. “I don't like missing you.”

“I was going to miss you too,” Mark admitted. Nicky bit his lip. “If you want to do anything over the break... I mean, you can. Like, if you want to call or drop by. I won't mind. I'd like that.”

“I'd like that too.” The lights flicked off. Nicky tensed. Then they were on again, brighter. The lift shuddered.

They began to ascend, slowly, the mechanics a comforting hum in the walls.

They were on their feet and brushing themselves off when the doors opened on the Christmas party, two elevator repairmen in front of the taped-off door and forty or so people cheering drunkenly.

“Er... thanks lads.” Mark accepted a glass of champagne Kian shoved into his hand.

“You okay?” Shane was already hugging Nicky. Nicky was hugging back, though his eyes were fixed on Mark over his friend's shoulder, relieved. “We didn't even realise you were gone, but then some lad came up and mentioned the lift was stuck and could everyone get out of the way.”

“Thanks for missing us.” Nicky pulled away. The repairmen were climbing in, obviously doing whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. A man who was probably the building manager was coming over, looking nervously apologetic in a suit and name-pin. “I'm okay.”

“Thought you'd be in bits, stuck in a lift.” Shane wasn't doing tact well, but then Mark suspected he was on his ninth cocktail.

“No.” A shy smile crossed lips that were still a bit red. “Mark took care of me.”

  
  


 


End file.
